When you hear the word motorbike, what do you think of? Marlon Brando in an unfortunate cap astride his Triumph? The ultrafast races in Akira? Or, and apologies if you had managed to shut this out of your memory banks, John Travolta and his baby-soft cheeks pootling around in Wild Hogs?

As some of the Readers Recommend community observed, the meaning of the motorbike, all that symbolism stuff, is a lot less broad than its four-wheeled pal, the car. Different cars say different things about their drivers, but in music, it seems, bikes are about rough-edged individuals feeling freedom in their hair.

Steppenwolf, obviously, are largely to blame. Or Dennis Hopper. Or both. Born to Be Wild is inextricably linked to Easy Rider, but it summarises that film's attitude with its motto: "Looking for adventure/ Or whatever comes my way." That mixture of thrill-seeking and abandonment is not unique to bikers, but it certainly seems to be popular.

The Allman Brothers conceive of the Midnight Rider, who heads out with just the clothes on his back and a silver dollar in his pocket. The Jesus and Mary Chain take the same idea and turn it into narcissistic fetish: "I cut the road like a sharpened knife/ And I'm in love with myself/ There's nothing else but me."

The Living End, taken from the Mary Chain's Psychocandy, is a ball of buzzing noise and is complemented by both Suicide's droning epic Ghost Rider and the frenzied breakbeat of μ-Ziq's The Motorbike Track. Quite what it was about the motorbike that encouraged such sounds is not apparent; maybe somebody had experienced one too many rattling carburettors.

Other songs engage with the iconography but explore it from different angles. Neil Young's Unknown Legend is a waitress and mother of two. But in Young's mind's eye she's a Harley-riding rebel "colliding with the very air she breathes". Richard Thompson sings a ballad of a love brought short; James, the owner of the titular Vincent, is felled by the law – his lover Red Molly survives him. The tragedy is circumscribed by the fact that Red Molly's feelings for James were, in the first instance, caused partly by the bike. Without the means of his own destruction the couple would never have come together in the first place.

In Daniel Johnston's Speeding Motorcycle, the dreams of speed remain, but the bike is the man: "Pretty girls have taken you for a ride/ Hurt you deep inside but you never slowed down." Johnston aspires towards the robustness of the machine itself, not the Dennis Hopper archetype that owns it.

The Manic Street Preachers composed a great hook upon which to hang their wailing against the functions of capitalism. Here it's possible to see the bike as a fake rebellion: "Under neon loneliness/ Motorcycle emptiness." At least, that's one reading. I'm much clearer as to why the refreshingly unpredictable Dr Alimantado has made this week's list. The Barber Feel It is not in any way a contemplation of bikes, but it does feature a 50cc machine growling away in the background.